


Due West

by ThrillingDetectiveTales



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, F/F, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29277468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThrillingDetectiveTales/pseuds/ThrillingDetectiveTales
Summary: With a little help from their friends, Alexis and Stevie prepare to travel across the country together to take advantage of new opportunities in sunny Los Angeles, California.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd & David Rose, Stevie Budd/Alexis Rose
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Due West

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anthrobrat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anthrobrat/gifts).



> Happy Chocolate Box, recipient!
> 
> Title and inspiration for this fic both came from Kelsey Lu's song of the same name: ['Due West.'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=32tjfmyHzYk)

“Are you sure about this?” David asked, folding another of Stevie’s shirts and adding it to the neat stack in the corner of the suitcase he had splayed open in front of him on the bed.

“For the five-hundredth time,” Stevie sighed, shooting a warning glare at David over her shoulder, “yes. I’m sure.” 

“Okay,” David put his hands up. “Just wanted to make sure you were sure.”

“Well, I am.” Stevie turned her attention back to the garment bag on the dining table and proceeded to attempt to wrestle another of her work suits into its depths without wrinkling it. Granted, she didn’t try all that hard, because David was inevitably going to do it over again once she’d finished. Same as he’d taken one look at her haphazardly packed suitcase, declared, “Oh, absolutely not,” and upended its contents all over her mattress when he’d first arrived forty minutes ago.

“It’s just - ” David continued, shaking out one of Stevie’s flannels and laying it out flat across the bedspread. He lapsed into silence for a second, smoothing down the sleeves, and then said pointedly, _“Los Angeles.”_ He dragged his hand through the air with a flourish as he said it, like he was on a stage somewhere. “That’s a pretty big change from a town that literally has ‘shit’ in the name.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of why we’re going.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” David said, pressing on without bothering to look over at Stevie or otherwise acknowledge her statement in any way. “L.A. has its charms, but at the end of the day it’s just the same as any other shit hole.”

“So I’ve been told,” Stevie agreed. “At length. By you.”

“Okay, well, I would know,” David huffed. He shoved her flannel into the suitcase with more force than was strictly necessary and tugged a plain blue tee free from the pile of clothes on the bed. “I spent three summers there during high school and it sucked. The traffic is always terrible and everyone overcharges for their party drugs.”

 _“Oh,”_ Stevie drawled, feigning sudden understanding. “Now I get why Alexis was so insistent that we pack one of her carry-ons full of ecstasy.” She turned to smile at David over her shoulder, close-mouthed and shit-eating.

David rolled his eyes and fixed her with a glare. “I’m serious. Everything is overpriced and the atmosphere is basically radioactive at this point. There’s never any parking anywhere, and you can’t spit without hitting a contrived niche business, and all the people are assholes.”

“All the people here are assholes,” Stevie pointed out.

“It’s a different kind of asshole.”

“And you _own_ a contrived niche business.”

David straightened up and pointed a finger at her. “For the sake of our friendship, I’m going to put that down to nerves making you say things you don’t really mean.”

“We’re not moving out there to meet people,” Stevie said, working a silk blouse free of a hanger and doing her level best to tuck it inside a smart, cropped blazer in a faintly heathered charcoal. “Or to take long drives or enjoy the fresh air or whatever.”

“I know, I know. Alexis is gonna be a bigshot PR rep and you’re doing some motel thing.”

“Establishing a West Coast satellite office for the Rosebud Motel Group,” Stevie corrected him.

“Yeah,” David agreed. “That’s what I said.”

“Right.”

They lapsed back into companionable silence, though David was still strung through with tension in the way he always got when he was trying to hold his tongue on an opinion he desperately wanted to share. To his credit, he made it a whole three and a half minutes before he blurted, “I just don’t see why Alexis can’t be a publicist in New York. I mean, you guys already have an office up there and everything.”

“The firm that offered her a position is in Los Angeles,” Stevie reminded him. “And it would be pretty stupid of the board to send me to start up a new satellite office in the city where we’re headquartered.”

“I’m just saying, it’s a long way to go just so you can do the same things you’re already doing.”

“I actually think this move is gonna be really good for us,” Stevie offered, lifting one shoulder in a shrug.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, we were doing okay with long distance but it’ll be nice to fall asleep in the same bed every night.”

“You could do that in New York,” David pointed out. “Alexis has an apartment there and everything.”

“Not anymore,” Stevie balled up the shirt she was fussing with and threw it down onto the table in front of her. “Besides she had like, four roommates. We never got any privacy.”

“I’m just saying.”

“What’s with you and this persistent boner for New York City, anyway?”

“I just think it’s a nice place to live.”

Stevie threw her hands up. “I know you’re looking back on it through rose-colored glasses or whatever, but I’m there like every other weekend for work and it’s always crowded and dirty and everything smells like piss.”

“Okay,” David allowed, “so maybe it’s kind of an acquired taste, but there’s just so much to do in New York! Art and culture and history! There’s food, and - and Broadway!” He turned away, making a big show of aligning the articles of clothing he had already packed for maximum spatial utility, and said in a smaller voice, “Plus, it’s only like, an hour and a half flight back here to visit.”

Stevie turned to peer at David with her hands against her hips, eyebrows arching high and expectant, and said slowly, “You know, you can just tell me you’re gonna miss me.”

David craned his neck to peer over his shoulder and flashed her that smile of his that was more like a grimace. “What? Who said anything about missing you?”

Stevie raised her eyebrows even higher.

“Even if I _wanted_ to miss you, I doubt I’d have the time,” David shrugged, lazy and nonchalant. “You’re carpooling across the country with my sister. I’ll be on FaceTime talking one or both of you down from aggravated homicide by noon at the latest.”

“You know, I think I can confidently speak for Alexis when I say that your unwavering support in this next chapter of our lives means so much to the both of us. Really.”

David smiled at Stevie, wide and sweet, and flipped her the bird. She returned it in kind, and they both ducked their heads, twisting their mouths against the current of good humor swelling between then.

“Seriously though,” David continued, mouth curling up on one side. “Blink twice if you’re being forcibly coerced into crossing state lines against your will.”

Stevie rolled her eyes. As if on cue, the front door swung open and Alexis came swanning in, a tray of take-out coffee cups balanced in the crook of one elbow and a sleek, glittery clutch tucked into the other. It didn’t quite match her ensemble—a fuzzy, cropped sweater with billowing sleeves in a lightly toasted cream color over a pair of black joggers and coordinating slip-ons—but Stevie supposed that didn’t much matter, since they would be spending the majority of the day in the car, where there wouldn’t be anyone except Stevie to appreciate her sartorial efforts. 

Patrick was following close at Alexis’s heels, with a white paper takeaway bag in hand and a dark smudge high on his cheek.

“Okay!” Alexis announced brightly. “We are officially ready to roll! We have coffee and breakfast, courtesy of the Café Tropical, and Patrick used his little sticky drip thingy on the car and put air in the tires.” She waved a hand at the man in question, who shook his head and huffed a soft laugh.

“It’s a dipstick,” Patrick corrected with an amused, slightly disbelieving grin, “and I used it to check your oil.” He nodded to Stevie past Alexis’s shoulder. “You’re good, by the way.”

“Thanks for doing that,” Stevie said, turning halfway around as Alexis sashayed up behind her. “I know it’s a new car, but - ”

“Better safe than sorry when you’re headed cross-country,” Patrick finished for her, and Stevie nodded in agreement.

She tilted her face up so Alexis could drop a kiss to her cheek, grinning when Alexis greeted, “Hey babe,” in the low, warm tone she reserved exclusively for when she was talking to Stevie. 

“Hi,” Stevie returned, sweet and soft. They smiled at each other for a long second, giddy and stupid, until Alexis took in the explosion of clothes scattered across Stevie’s apartment, which had been emptied of all but the furniture they were leaving behind, and frowned.

“What happened here?” she asked, wandering over to drop her clutch and the coffees onto the bare countertop.

Stevie raised her eyebrows and tilted her head toward David. “Your brother decided my suitcase packing technique wasn’t up to par and then implied I was an unwitting victim of human trafficking.”

Alexis scoffed and turned to glare at her brother, who jabbed a finger in the air toward them.

“It was a reasonable assumption!” he protested. “And you’ll be thanking me when you get there and don’t have to iron every article of clothing you own.”

“Seriously, David?” Alexis rolled her eyes and reached up with both hands to tuck the few stray curls that had fallen loose from her artfully messy bun back behind her ears. “According to our travel itinerary, we’re supposed to be on the road by nine o’clock at the latest.” She took a breath like she was about to lay into him further and then peered over Stevie’s shoulder and froze. “I’m sorry. Um. Are you doubling up your business suits in one garment bag?”

“No,” Stevie said, affronted, and Alexis breathed a sigh of relief. Stevie gestured to the three remaining sets of coordinating jackets and slacks laid out across the table and added, “I was hoping to get all five in there.”

Alexis’s green eyes went wide under her furrowed brow, mouth pulling down at the corners. She glanced over at David—who raised his eyebrows high and smug, as if his point had just been proven for him—and bared her teeth in a grimace.

“Okay,” she said, putting a gentle hand on Stevie’s shoulder and guiding her backwards, “yeah. No. Just, here, babe, let me. We’re not putting _five suits_ in a single garment bag, okay?”

“Oh my God,” Stevie huffed. “Do whatever you want, I don’t even care anymore. I’m officially washing my hands of this.” She mimed scrubbing her palms together and shaking them out, then turned on her heel and retreated to where Patrick was loitering in the kitchenette, watching the whole scene unfold with an expression that suggested he was roughly fifteen seconds away from bursting into hysterical laughter.

They shared a commiserating smirk at the antics of their respective partners and Stevie leaned back against the refrigerator with her arms crossed over her chest.

“May I offer you a breakfast pastry?” Patrick asked, gesturing to the white paper bag on the counter.

Stevie smirked at him. “That depends. What are my options?”

Patrick unrolled the top of the bag and peered inside, reporting dutifully, “Looks like we’ve got a handful of cherry danishes and a selection of croissants.”

“Let the record show that I, David Rose, am laying claim to at least one of those danishes,” David announced without turning to look at them.

Patrick grinned at his back. “Duly noted.”

“What kind of croissants are we working with?” Stevie asked, nudging her shoulder against Patrick’s.

“We have your standard, everyday butter croissant,” Patrick supplied, reaching into the bag to shuffle things around. “Or there’s a couple of chocolate ones, and something that looks like it might be almond.”

“Chocolate. Smart money says Alexis is going to want the almond.”

“Yes please!” Alexis confirmed. She appeared to have produced two additional garment bags through some sartorial witchcraft and was painstakingly guiding Stevie’s business attire into place.

“Done and done.” Patrick pulled both pastries from the depths of the bag, each tucked into a loosely folded sheet of grease-spotted parchment paper, and handed them over to Stevie. He jerked his chin toward the tray of to-go cups and added, “There’s a coffee in there somewhere for you, too.”

Stevie nodded her thanks and rifled through the assortment of cups—the iced whatever with a small mound of whipped cream and various sauces drizzled over the top obviously belonged to David, and Patrick had already claimed something in a standard paper cup with a sleeve, which left two nearly identical beverages for the taking. Nearly, because unlike Patrick’s, one of these had an A scrawled on the lid in Alexis’s familiar, looping hand and the other boasted an S with a heart next to it.

She shook her head, fighting against a smile, and pried the ‘S<3’ cup free from the cardboard tray. It was your standard slightly over-brewed diner coffee, but Alexis had doctored it with a splash of cream and a decent portion of honey, just the way Stevie liked it.

The Rose siblings made quick work of packing Stevie’s wardrobe per their exacting standards and soon enough, the four of them were loitering in Stevie’s tiny kitchenette, licking pastry flakes from their fingers and chatting absently about a shifting host of topics that eventually circled around to Alexis and Stevie’s imminent cross-country roadtrip.

“Have you planned all your stops?” Patrick asked from where he and David were pressed together, side by side. Patrick had his arm slung low around David’s waist, while David had his arm over Patrick’s shoulders, in turn. 

It was adorable and kind of ridiculous, but Stevie supposed she couldn’t cast any stones, considering that Alexis had linked their arms together nearly twenty minutes ago and expressed no intention of ceding her grip anytime soon. She traced the pads of her fingers up and down over Stevie’s wrist, absent and affectionate, while Stevie did her level best to meet David’s pointed, gleeful gaze without blushing so hot she combusted.

“We’re hoping to make it to Niagara by this afternoon,” Alexis grinned and leaned in, cupping her free hand around the side of her mouth like she was letting Patrick in on some big secret. “There’s a five-star suite waiting for us, and complimentary tickets for a candlelit boat tour.”

“Sounds romantic,” David observed, raising his eyebrows in Stevie’s direction.

She arched her own in response and rolled her eyes when David enacted a little shimmy with his shoulders.

“After that, it sort of depends,” Alexis continued. “There are a few Rosebuds on the way that Stevie wants to check out to make sure they’re up to snuff, but the only timetable we have is that we need to be in L.A. by the twelfth.”

“Cool. Well, make sure you get a couple of good old-fashioned roadside curiosities in there, too,” Patrick suggested. “You said your route’s taking you straight across the Heartland, right?”

“Pretty much,” Stevie shrugged, while Alexis nodded.

“Oh yeah,” Patrick said, with a surprising amount of authority. “There’s all kinds of stuff out that way. ‘World’s Largest Ball of Yarn’ type deals, moonshiners and backwoods hooch stands, vortex caves, life-size dinosaur sculptures, backyard zoos, you name it.”

Alexis glanced over at Stevie right around the time she heard the phrase 'life-size dinosaur sculptures,’ her green eyes wide and horrified. Stevie huffed a laugh and shifted her arm where it was linked through Alexis’s until she managed to twine their fingers together.

“Yeah, maybe,” she allowed, with a nod in Patrick’s direction. “I’m mostly looking forward to stocking up on wholesale fireworks.”

Alexis snorted and squeezed Stevie’s hand, leaning in to purr under her breath, “We’ll be making plenty of our own fireworks along the way.”

Stevie bit her lip, cheeks flushing with heat, while a warm, sweet pulse rolled low through her belly.

“That too,” she agreed.

“Okay,” David interrupted, rubbing a hand vigorously over the curve of Patrick’s shoulder. “Why don’t we get you two lovebirds on the road before you ignite your very own Fourth of July display right here in the kitchen, hm?”

Patrick hefted Stevie’s suitcase off the bed, with David acting in a supervisory capacity, while Stevie and Alexis apportioned the garment bags among themselves. They trooped out to the little gravel lot behind Stevie’s apartment building, where the Explorer was parked in the corner, and slotted Stevie’s battered old luggage—a pilled and fraying fabric number in a dusty grey that may have once been black—into the trunk alongside Alexis’s—a sleek matching set of three hard-shelled rolling cases in an opalescent shade somewhere between pink and peach.

Alexis and David shared a short, sincere hug, and Patrick gave Stevie and Alexis each an affectionate squeeze in turn. Then, in a surprisingly self-aware moment of empathy—which were becoming more and more commonplace with every day she spent working to make her own way in the world—Alexis curled a hand over Stevie’s shoulder, pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek, and said softly, “I’m gonna go get the car warmed up.”

She straightened up and turned her big green eyes on Patrick, gesturing over her shoulder as she added, “Hey, Patrick, can you come and - ”

“Yeah!” Patrick said immediately. “Yes. Happy to come along with you. Yep, just, right over here.”

The two of them retreated up toward the nose of the vehicle, conversing quietly amongst themselves. It wasn’t particularly subtle, but based on the way his eyes were shining, mouth twisted against a smile, David appreciated the artless offer of privacy just as much as Stevie did.

“So,” David drawled shakily, “last chance to back out.”

“Please,” Stevie snorted and reached up to rub at her stinging eyes. “I’m just...packing my entire life into the back of a mid-size luxury SUV and moving to a city I’ve never even visited with my girlfriend of eight months.” It sounded a little crazy when she said it like that, but it also made something warm and sweet fizz in the pit of her stomach. She lifted one shoulder in a shrug and added as nonchalantly as possible, “No big deal.”

“Yeah, you’re really going all out on the U-Hauling,” David teased, laughing when Stevie reached over to deliver a gentle slug in the general vicinity of his bicep. “At least your car is sufficiently butch.”

“I didn’t realize there was a minimum butchness threshold you had to meet for moving across the continent with your lesbian lover.”

“It’s a low bar,” David assured her. “I mean, a hatchback would really be your best option, but an all-terrain SUV will do in a pinch.”

They looked at each other for a long second, both of them flushed blotchy and screwing their mouths up against their own humor.

“Fuck it,” David sighed, and threw his arms around Stevie. “Get in here.”

Stevie hugged him back, fisting her hands in the fabric of his sweater hard enough that she was probably pulling the fibers out of alignment, not that David seemed to care.

“Call me when you get there,” David demanded, and Stevie scoffed into his shoulder.

“Duh.”

“And at least once every day.”

“Obviously.”

“If you don’t, I’m going to assume Alexis has sold you into sexual slavery and contact the police on your behalf.”

“The only sensible response.”

“And don’t let her boss you around.”

Stevie straightened up just enough to fix David with an unimpressed glare, though neither one of them seemed inclined to let the other go. “When have I ever let anyone tell me what to do?”

“Okay, well, I’m just saying,” David huffed, and reeled her back in. He rubbed a hand across her shoulders and Stevie squeezed her eyes shut tight. “If you’re ever in need of a nuclear option, I know every secret she’s ever had and I will gladly share them all with you down to the filthy, TMZ headlining details for an extremely equitable exchange of favors.”

Stevie laughed wetly into David’s chest. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” She sniffled, just once, and then rubbed her nose and stepped away. “I think we’ll be okay, though. Alexis is pretty good at communicating.”

“She better be,” David let his palm slide down Stevie’s arm from her shoulder to her elbow and gave it a little squeeze. “She staked her whole career on that one skill.” He flashed Stevie a small smile and admitted quietly, “Seems to be working out pretty well for her so far.”

Stevie smiled, vision blurring for just a second, and reached up to drag the heel of her hand over either cheek. She had the sleeve of her flannel tucked under her fingers for extra absorbency. “You guys are coming to visit, right?”

“Already got the tickets. Patrick has been waxing ecstatic about going to see the Dobbers play for weeks.”

“Do you mean the Dodgers?” Stevie frowned.

“Whatever,” David waved her off and then turned toward the car, linking his arm through Stevie’s and guiding her absently forward. “You and I,” he wagged a finger between them to illustrate, “will not be attending, as we’ll be too busy getting high on the beach and eating our way through every taco stand within walking distance to watch a bunch of grown men in spiky shoes compete for the arguable prestige of being the best at hitting a ball with a big stick.”

Stevie nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

They came to a stop beside the passenger door and hugged again, brisker and briefer.

“I will,” David admitted, voice rasping so soft it was nearly a whisper. “Miss you.”

There was a tight, painful knot at the back of Stevie’s throat. She did her best to swallow it down but it hurt, and her jaw ached with the effort.

“Wow,” she croaked, a few seconds later when her voice felt more stable. “That’s so embarrassing for you.”

“Oh my God.” David pushed her off, but he was smiling, and Stevie smiled back. “Okay. Go drive off into the sunset with my sister you soulless heathen.”

Stevie laughed and swiped at her eyes again while David opened the door for her. She climbed up into the passenger seat and reached over to squeeze his hand one more time before he nudged the door closed.

Alexis was already settled comfortably into the driver’s seat, her iPhone plugged in and the Waze readout for the first leg of their trip glowing merrily up from the digital display in the center of the dashboard. There was faint, dreamy pop music drifting from the speakers and Alexis smiled over at Stevie while she buckled herself in. Her eyes were rimmed red, lashes gathered in soft, wet spikes and cheeks blotchy with sorrow despite the wide, white grin splitting her face.

“You ready to do this?” she asked, flipping her palm up where her arm was resting on the center console.

Stevie covered it with her own, slotting their fingers together, and tipped her head up. “Almost. Just, real quick, before we go.”

She raised her other hand to Alexis’s face, brushing Alexis’s chin with her fingers and guiding her forward.

Alexis grinned even wider, eyes falling closed as she leaned in and met Stevie in a kiss.

It was a soft, familiar thing—warm and slick and a little sweet from the lipgloss Alexis liked to wear—and Stevie felt it ripple through her body, all the way down to her toes. Alexis brought her other hand up to cup Stevie’s cheek, thumb sweeping in short, absent strokes over her jaw. A few chaste seconds later, Stevie pulled away and sat back in her seat, though she left her hand where it was, comfortably entwined with Alexis’s own.

“Okay,” she sighed, licking her lips while her mouth curled up at the corners. “I’m ready.”

Alexis smiled, arched an eyebrow, and turned the key in the ignition.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
